The Woman That Wasn't Her
by AspirationStarts
Summary: In the two years that Sherlock was dead Mrs. Hudson gains a new friend who moves into 221 C Baker Street. Rated T for grade 12 vocabulary and future details in the making. Please leave reviews. They are important to me. Without them I'm not much motivated to write. I do pm followers about updates they can look forward to.
1. What You Don't See

During the two years in which Sherlock Holmes was believed to be dead a new tenant came to live at 221 Baker Street. This woman was raised in America and then moved to Ireland then Wales. While being in Wales she heard about Sherlock Holmes. Naturally curious about whom this person was she decided to research who he was and where he lived. Then the first summer after Sherlock's death an acquaintance of hers invited her to London for a few weeks. She was free to roam the streets and eventually found Baker Street and made her way to 221. It was as unremarkable as the next building but to her, inside was a treasure trove of information. It was an unfortunate habit of a person who had made most of her living in journalism. She walked up the stoop and knocked on the door.

An older woman opened the door. "What can I do for you dear?" she asked.

The younger woman knew that it had not been long since his death and she was sure this woman had known him well. "Let's just start with names," she said politely. "My name is Kelly O'Malley."

"I'm Mrs. Hudson," the older woman replied. "No there is no more Mr. Hudson but that's the name I'm sticking with." Mrs. Hudson was presently considering all the times at which she'd heard Sherlock call out that name.

Kelly smiled warmly at her. "I'm sorry if I bothered you," she murmured. "I didn't know you were close to him." For a moment she considered that she might also be grieving over another loss so she made sure. "This is where Sherlock Holmes used to live?" Mrs. Hudson pulled out a hankie and nodded. "Oh now I've upset you," Kelly responded with an empathetic frown. "Let me take you to a place for tea."

"Oh," Mrs. Hudson smiled and waved her hankie at her. "You're such a nice young lady. I think he would have liked you. Not that he'd act like it of course." She took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes I think it would be nice to go out for some tea." She opened the door. "Why don't you come inside for a moment while I gather my things?"

"It'd be a pleasure," Kelly replied and took a step through the dark door. Her bright blue eyes took in the entry way and stairs as Mrs. Hudson closed and locked the door behind her. A smile was playing at her lips. "I love old buildings," Kelly said to herself more than anyone. "Sometimes if it's quiet enough you can hear the walls repeating things they've heard." She trailed off.

"What is it you do for a living, Kelly?" Mrs. Hudson asked as they stood at the bottom of the stairs.

Kelly's eyes darted away from the wall and back to Mrs. Hudson. "In Ireland I was a journalist, but I found that news was only ever about old things that never really matter. So I moved to Wales to write children's stories."

Mrs. Hudson looked pleasantly surprised. "Children's stories, you mean like fairytales?" she asked.

Kelly shook her head. "No more like stories about children for children," she said with a smile. "I find that children are so resilient and brutally honest that I want to make sure that stays with them into adulthood."

With a finger pointed at Kelly, Mrs. Hudson smiled. "I like you Kelly O'Malley. If this afternoon goes well I shall have to insist that you return."

"That would make me very happy, Mrs. Hudson," Kelly replied with a smile.

Over the last week of Kelly's stay in London, Mrs. Hudson was able to share things with Kelly that she would have shared with John if he had ever called. Kelly never complained of her chatter and instead listened intently. Sometimes Kelly would talk about a book she had written and how she was hoping it would be published. This caused Mrs. Hudson to exclaim, "Well if I had any children I'd buy it!"

It was during this discussion that Kelly mentioned her friend and colleague that she was staying with in London. This friend had many connections to publishers in London that may be more willing to publish than her contacts in Wales.

"You know I've had a spare apartment that no one really wants to let out," Mrs. Hudson replied. "But if you get a publisher here in London I bet we can fix the place up and make it livable."

"Mrs. Hudson!" Kelly exclaimed beaming radiantly with excitement. "That sounds absolutely delightful. I've always wanted to fix up an old place just the way I like. It'd be a dream I tell you."

Mrs. Hudson clasped her hands and hooted like an overly excited owl. "I shall have noise in 221 Baker Street again," she exclaimed.

Arrangements were made once Kelly found herself a publisher. Kelly spent almost all of her time with Mrs. Hudson, picking out flooring and discussing the best way to keep the place livable. Curtain rods were installed along with a brand new bathroom that actually worked. Then the place was scrubbed clean so the flooring and wallpaper could be placed. Then Kelly moved all of her belongings from Cardiff to Baker Street.

Six whole months had passed since their first meeting. Kelly flew back to the States for the Holidays and didn't return until the end of January. She was not as chipper as she once was. Her family was very dear to her and quite suddenly she fell into a depression. She would stay for days sometimes in her flat without coming out. Mrs. Hudson didn't know if she was working on her story or not. Whenever she went for a visit Kelly would be sitting in the same spot silently staring at her computer screen. They would share tea together and Kelly would barely speak a word.

Mrs. Hudson decided that it was enough that she was well and paying rent and started to visit less and less. Then the two women were separated even though they lived on the same stoop. That was until one evening when Mrs. Hudson was doing her dishes. She heard a noise at the front door. Knowing that Kelly rarely went out now, she grabbed her frying pan and went to see who might be robbing her.

Kelly then heard Mrs. Hudson scream in a way that could mean only one thing. Sherlock Holmes was back.


	2. Being Polite

The next morning Kelly finally came out of her room but she seemed distant as if her thoughts were almost constantly elsewhere. Of course being in the basement flat she had ample opportunity to visit Mrs. Hudson without Sherlock knowing. Speaking with Mrs. Hudson was safe for her. She crept up the path and hallway to Mrs. Hudson's door.

"Heavens you're still alive," Mrs. Hudson said upon opening her door to see her. "What on earth have you been doing these past few months?"

"I'm terribly sorry about that," Kelly said her brow furrowed and the corners of her lips turned down. "My work lately has been, well consuming me."

"You don't look like you've stepped out of your house in a month," Mrs. Hudson said taking in Kelly's appearance. Her hair was rolled up in a tight bun on her head and she was wearing lounge clothes. There were deep puffy circles under her eyes which were dull grey instead of bright at the moment. "Come in and let me make you some breakfast. I have wonderful news to tell you."

Kelly moved through the kitchen as if she was very stiff and had indeed not been moving around much for a while. "I had three beginning novellas that I sent into the publisher two years ago and each one was received very well in their own testing period," she explained while Mrs. Hudson cooked. Most of the time, it had been Mrs. Hudson who talked, but Kelly had been cooped up for too long. "Holidays before last they told me I could sign on for perhaps three sequels, each."

"Ooo," Mrs. Hudson hooted, having for the moment been so happy that Kelly was out and about that she forgot to mention Sherlock. "I bet your family was happy to hear about that."

Kelly looked off into a different world. That world caused her to have a sad look about her. The conversation had started to turn her eyes bright again before that point. They returned to a dull gray. "Yes they were happy to hear that," she sighed softly. "I had a hard couple of years once I decide to migrate here. They were glad I had some success, finally." She rubbed her face and sighed again. Mrs. Hudson put a plate of eggs, toast and bacon on the table in front of her. "I've been living off take out because I had to meet the deadlines for six of the novellas this past year. Barely had enough money for cabs to the library." She looked as exhausted as she felt. With Mrs. Hudson there was no need for her to pretend.

"Do you take tea in the morning?" Mrs. Hudson asked. She remembered a few days ago that John had popped in and she made him tea on accident because she was thinking of Sherlock. Now of course Sherlock was here!

With a shake of her head, Kelly picked up her toast and started to spread jam on it. "I always drink milk in the morning," she said and started eating.

Mrs. Hudson poked her head in her fridge. She thought it was a pity. Kelly and Sherlock might have tea together if she took it in the mornings. "Oh I'm sorry I've only got creamer," she said.

"That's alright," Kelly replied. "I have some downstairs." She quickly wiped her mouth and got up. "It will only be for a moment." Before Mrs. Hudson could respond she was sweeping herself out of the apartment.

"Heavens," Mrs. Hudson murmured. "I still haven't mentioned Sherlock. I must be slipping. It's been too quiet."

Sherlock was coming down the stairs to retrieve something from his coat pocket when Kelly exited Mrs. Hudson's abode. She looked up at him before he noticed she was there. His lip showed a recent cut. "Good morning!" She smiled and disappeared down to her basement room to retrieve her milk. Sherlock was half awake when he noticed her and stumbled his way back up the stairs. Mrs. Hudson's visitors were none of his concerns. Although when he got to the top of the stairs he wondered why she was headed to the C apartment. His thick eyebrows furrowed for a moment and then he grunted and shrugged the thought off mentally.

Upon returning Kelly's eyes were glittery with excitement. The milk was placed on the table next to her breakfast. "So, Sherlock is back," she pointed out as she poured herself a glass of milk and went back to an enthusiastic pace of eating.

"Did you see him just now?" Mrs. Hudson asked and looked at the time. She went to a cupboard and took out a tea set. "He usually isn't awake. He'll be wanting his tea soon."

"I can take it if you set up the tray," Kelly offered. "I don't know what he takes with it." An actual conversation with Sherlock would be much more interesting than a simple 'good morning'. A bright smile stretched across her face. "I need to stretch my legs. I'm on the last stretches of the final novella. I feel energized now with an end in sight. Getting above ground level will do me good."

It was settled. After finishing her breakfast Kelly took the tea tray up the stairs. The work was slow because the china was a bit heavier than it looked and she didn't want to drop anything. She was still so horribly stiff from hunching over her computer for hours at a time. When she got to the landing she looked a bit lost wondering what she was supposed to do now that she was at the door.

To the side she could see her way into the kitchen. For a moment she was confused. A door was open and a door was mostly closed. Which path was the right one to take? "This is horribly thought up," she whispered aloud to herself. She was at an awkward cultural impasse. As an American, Kelly often found English cultures to be polite. Americans held convenience over politeness. Normally she would have just gone through the kitchen. However, since it wasn't her flat she prodded the mostly closed door with her foot. It gave way and she ushered the tea tray inside.

Observing the room with a glance she saw no one and placed the tray on the circular coffee table or side table. It wasn't really big enough to be a table. Then when she straightened up she felt the presence of someone behind her. The morning light falling into the room from the open door was blocked by a figure.

"Who are you?" the voice said behind her. Kelly stood up straighter, knowing exactly who was speaking. "And what are you doing in my flat?"

Kelly turned around to face Sherlock. His face no longer had sleep lingering about it and his posture was precise. Despite the posture he was still in his jim-jams with a sulky look on his face as if he had been in a fight with his pillows all night. "I'm Kelly O'Malley," she replied calmly and stretched out her hands hanging at her sides because she wasn't sure if she should put out her hand for him to shake. The last thing she wanted was to be polite and have him deny her the same courtesy. To have something to do with her hands she gestured to the table next to her. "I brought you your tea."

"Obviously," Sherlock muttered to himself as he rolled his eyes. Inwardly he labeled her as an idiot.

Despite first impressions Kelly was very clever. She knew he though she was an idiot know and she didn't like it. However, first impressions are very important so she decided to be polite. Taking a deep breath and pressing her lips together for a moment, she added, "I've been living in C apartment while you've been… dead." It seemed weird coming out of her mouth. She had initially wanted to say away instead. It wasn't every day you referred a man who was alive, to being dead.

Sherlock took a step toward her and looked her over. Kelly put up her chin. She didn't really like the way he was analyzing her so she decided to analyze him too. It was a mechanism that she used for retaliation. "Journalist?" he asked her, mainly to be polite since to him it was obvious. All things obvious to him tended to be imperceptible to others. Yet, this woman seemed to have caught on to what was happening quickly enough.

"Ex-journalist," Kelly corrected as her eyes followed his movements. He was about to pass her shoulder when she said, "Your friend doesn't seem happy that you aren't dead."

Sherlock froze and his eyes flickered in her direction before continuing to walk past her. His eyes narrowed, calculating how she might have guessed that. She obviously knew who he was and had been told about John, unless of course she was just guessing.

"Does that bother you?" Kelly smirked because she knew she was right about her thoughts on where he got the cut on his lip. Mrs. Hudson had often mentioned John Watson to her. Since they were never formally introduced she didn't find it necessary to say his name aloud. Raising her eyebrows and lifting a finger, she made it a point to look at his lip as she had her head turned to him.

His long fingers crept up to his face as if he'd forgotten what was there. He flashed a small smile. "He'll get over it eventually," he stated. "I mean I'll… I'll get over it." Kelly raised an eyebrow in response. He simply looked at her again then as she looked right back. His eyes were mainly taking in what she was wearing; hair in a messy top bun, casual shirt and jeans with… loafers? No. House slippers. Leather twine. Blue on the top. Kelly was focused on the cut as she turned directly towards him. It still looked rather fresh and she was sure he hadn't put any ointment on it according to the careless order of his room.

"Have you treated it properly?" Kelly asked suddenly.

This caused Sherlock to be taken slightly aback as he looked up at her face from her shoes. "It's fine," he replied after he found himself looking at her eyes for an instant longer than he meant to. Never look at the eyes. The eyes are blue gray. He looked at her hands. One hand was folded over the other except for the pinkie which was curved slightly out. This indicated that her palms were small but her fingers were rather longer to the proportion of her hand. Insignificant information at the moment and he put it in temporary memory.

Kelly put her head to the side, "Better safe than sorry." Sherlock didn't respond. He seemed preoccupied with her hands. She glanced down at the hands and moved them and glanced at his face in time to see him avert his gaze. She looked about the disheveled room. "Do you have a kit?" she asked.

A few minutes later Kelly was cleaning the cut and using waterproof bandages to make sure the cut stayed clean and closed. She was rather short, so Sherlock had to sit on the arm of his chair while she worked.

"Did you ever want to be a nurse?" Sherlock asked as he observed her silent preparations. The fact that he kept finding himself examining her hands confused him. Surely he was simply bored and becoming fixated on something attractive to him. Silly brain chemistry.

"Stop talking," Kelly scolded with her eyebrows raised as she held a bit of bandage in her fingers. There was nothing trickier to bandage than a moving lip. The lengthened pauses were unsettling to her after being with chatty Mrs. Hudson. That and she couldn't seem to find a thing to say to him now.

"You'd make a terrible nurse," he added with a bit of a sneer. Sherlock hadn't exactly expected a journalist to want silence from a person such as himself. He was still trying to work out her true purpose in 221B Baker St.

Kelly sighed heavily. He was honestly worse than a child. Yet, somehow this made him charming. She was too focused on his lip to deny herself the sudden warm feeling in her chest. "_You_ make a terrible patient," she pointed out while giving him a serious eyebrow raised, motherly look. "Now, be still."

Sherlock frowned but didn't say anything. What she said had reminded him of John and he looked away from her unhappy for the moment. He didn't want to think about John. He didn't want to think about why he kept looking at her hands. He didn't like not wanting to think. The frown on his face deepened. Kelly put the bandage on and rubbed it smooth. A bit of a blush passed across her face as he breathed over her fingers in a slight but indignant huff. His lips were very attractive to her and she took a deep breath the second his eyes glanced back over to her face. "That should do it," she said with a small smile and put away the equipment that her eyes had been locked on to. Kelly didn't know that her face was still pink enough for Sherlock to notice. It didn't matter. None of these inner reactions really meant anything. Not to her. Not to him. They both knew it. Nothing romantic would come from the situation. This was all about being polite. Her heart would stop pounding erratically and he wouldn't keep looking at her hands.

Her blue eyes glanced back to his face. "Did you really want to know what I wanted to be?" she asked him. Her heart was racing a little bit too fast for her and she took another deep breath.

In the moment Sherlock took to answer he deduced that Kelly was very attracted to him. Evidence to support that theory was her visible nervousness at touching his face and her own face turning some shade of pink. Even though it would be polite to let her tell him, he wasn't interested in being polite anymore. He had other things to do. So, he replied bluntly, "No."

Kelly responded with a bit of a smile and a strained laugh that then turned into an expression that said, _Of course he didn't_. She took a breath in a turned slightly away before saying, "I'll be going then." She smiled politely and walked down the stairs leaving dust particles dancing behind her in the morning light.

It took Sherlock a moment to realize that he didn't want to make her leave just yet because he still wasn't done figuring her out. He gazed to the side with a look of confusion on his face. Then he sat down and for several minutes had the same expression on his face before finally deciding to drink his tea. Then he got dressed and forgot about the entire conversation completely.


	3. Valentine's Day

The day was just like any other ordinary, wintery day in February, except it wasn't. It was the 14th and someone ruled the day to be full of bright frilly colors and love. Not to mention, babies flying with tiny wings that could never actually support them, while they aimed arrows at couples. Needless to say the day was ridiculous for anyone of high intellectual prowess who also never intended on falling in love.

However, the morning was full of a toothy smile of a baby. That is, for Kelly O'Malley anyway. She was in the basement flat as usual. Her only window to her family was a screen on a desk. That was where the giggling face of a baby boy was. It was a video stream on Skype, an instant message program that required a webcam, which was perched on top of the screen.

Kelly's face was shining as a wide grin seemed stuck on her face. "Hi Owen," she called in a sweet voice. The baby was obviously more interested in the device on his mother's lap than on the woman on the screen. "Are you my valentine?"

The last thing Kelly saw before the video cut out was her nephew's head lunging towards the screen. A sad but adoring smile crossed her face. It felt like he had been trying to hug her. A few tears escaped her eyes. Kelly hadn't even been able to hold her nephew yet. She gathered her composure again and wiped away the tears. A redheaded woman showed up on the video stream again. "Sorry about that," she said. "He's in an oral stage and tried to eat the screen."

"That's alright," Kelly responded with a smile. "Give my brother my love."

"Always," the woman replied and then she looked off screen. "Oh he's unhappy about not having a screen now. It's about time for his nap."

"Well I'll let you go then," Kelly replied.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Kelly," the mother said warmly.

"It's a perfect day when I get to see him," Kelly told her with a small smile, "Happy Valentine's Day to you, too." They said their goodbyes and Kelly turned the computer off. She sat back in her chair, sadly content. It was barely nine in the morning and her plans for the day were complete.

With a heavy sigh she went upstairs to talk to Mrs. Hudson. The moment she passed over the threshold Mrs. Hudson picked up a conversation as if Kelly had only stepped out for a few moments. This threw off Kelly's conversational skills.

"Oh, John and Mary are going to be out this evening so Sherlock's going to do nothing but sulk," Mrs. Hudson started to chatter in a different tangent as soon as Kelly mentioned plans for the day. "I do hate it when he sulks. He tends to do horrible experiments, especially on a day like today. Holidays turn him into a fright. That's why I went online and got myself a date. I wish we had talked about this sooner dear. I might have been able to get you one."

"Oh no," Kelly responded shaking her head and backing up. "I don't like dates on Valentine's Day. It puts up too many high expectations that are doomed to fail. I'd only be miserable if I had one."

"Oh, come on and have some fun sweetheart," Mrs. Hudson said with a poo-poo wave of her hands. "Valentine's Day is for being silly in love. It doesn't even have to be real if you don't want it to. Lord knows mine won't be. But love is a thing you deserve to enjoy at least one day out of the year."

A heavy sigh came out of Kelly. "Mrs. Hudson," she said softly. "I do enjoy love. It's just different than what you're thinking of." She lifted her shoulders up and tried to look for a way to explain it. "My love is for my family. It's strong and steady. It doesn't need a dinner out or a glass of champagne to be celebrated." Mrs. Hudson hooted a small sigh of emotion. "It's celebrated every time I feel it."

Mrs. Hudson sniffed. "The way you talk about things sometimes," she mumbled as her lips trembled. "Oh, I do wish that you find someone that clicks with you someday. He's sure to be an amazing man. Only the best deserves a woman who has a way with words like you."

Kelly looked at Mrs. Hudson as if she were speaking a different language. It took her a moment to remember what exactly she had said that was so remarkable. Then it took another moment for her to understand that what she said had somehow touched Mrs. Hudson heart. "Oh," she froze for a moment in thought. Her face twisted into the confused expression of a primary student learning multiplication for the first time. "Did I say that out loud?"

"AH! HAH! HAH!" Mrs. Hudson cackled at this. "You're just like him sometimes," she said as she tried to breathe. Kelly looked confused as her eyes darted to and from Mrs. Hudson's face. "Oh ho, you say these wonderful cryptic things and then you never realize that… ho! You two would make some couple." She continued to laugh and laugh. Kelly eventually left the flat without saying anything.

Out in the hall Kelly was still looking confused as she closed the door behind her. Sherlock came down the stairs and looked at her. "What is Mrs. Hudson going on about?" he asked her.

Kelly's face transitioned from confusion to slackened incredulity. "I haven't the slightest idea," she replied.

"Seems a reasonable explanation," he replied. "She laughs at a lot of things I don't understand."

Sherlock seemed to be on the balls of his feet. Kelly noticed he didn't seem to be going out but at the same time he seemed about ready to dash in some direction. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked over Mrs. Hudson's continued labor of laughter.

"Hmm? What?" Sherlock responded and looked at Kelly. "Oh, no I was just making sure she wasn't having a stroke. She does have a very raucous laugh. It's hard to tell if she is in trouble when she laughs."

"Agreed," Kelly replied. He was standing a bit in her way. The door to the staircase that lead to her flat was close to the door she had just come from. "Um…" she cleared her throat and pointed towards her hallway that he was currently in front of.

He moved to the side. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Kelly took a few steps until she was next to him and then stopped. "Are you going to be staying in?" she asked.

"Depends on if something interesting happens," Sherlock replied quickly. "Why?"

"It's just," Kelly started with her eyes averted, "What with today being Valentine's Day…"

"Are you asking me on a date?"

Kelly's eyes widened and she looked a bit surprised. Then she became flustered and turned a bit pink. "I?" She trailed off, confused after being interrupted. "No, I just. I don't have a date so I was wondering if we'd both be in."

Sherlock spoke slowly. "_In_, on a date?" He was really bad at picking up signals of attraction from women at times. It seemed he was especially bad at it with Kelly.

Her face twisted in confusion and her bottom lip showed signs of exasperation. "I mean, are you going to stay in your flat for the day?" she rephrased. Kelly started to speak slowly. "Because that's what I'm probably going to do."

Sherlock put his lips together for a moment in thought. He'd never been asked on a date for Valentine's Day. It was a silly holiday of course. Yet, if he did happen to go out instead of staying in, he might find wind of a murder or some other kind of case. Either way it would be immensely better than sulking about how stupid the day was. "Yes, to the date," he replied suddenly, turning away from her, then turning back. "Wear something nice." He added and started back up the stairs.

"But I didn't ask you on a date," Kelly replied as she followed him to the foot of the stairs with her brow creased with the intent to make herself clear.

Sherlock halted and took a deep breath. Then he turned on the stair and looked down at her. Her face looked slightly angelic as she looked up at him and he made sure not to look directly at her. "Would you like to go on a date with me?" he asked. There was no emotion on his face and it was as if he was asking her to pass the sugar.

Kelly looked up at him. Initially she was pleasantly surprised. Then she realized he wasn't asking because she was special in anyway. If that had been the case he would have used her name. This mental process was so quick that she looked at him appalled. "Do you even remember my name?" she asked him.

"Of course I remember your name." Sherlock mentally started searching frantically through his brain. His memory went back to the first time they had met. The conversation had mostly been deleted by this point. All he could pull out was a "K" and an "O".

With her harms folded across her chest and a frown on her face, she gave him a look that implored him to tell her what he thought her name was. Disappointment was an understatement to the look that followed. She shook her head as he thought.

"K-kelsey?"

Kelly rolled her eyes with a sigh, before turning away and dropping her crossed arms.

"No, wait, Kate… Katie!" Sherlock tried again with his hands out and waving as he thought. He took an unconscious step down the stairs.

"Forget it, Sherlock," Kelly called and continued walking past the stairs to her hallway door. Her shoulders were slouched in even further disappointment. That's what the day was all about for her. Not even Sherlock Holmes could change that great flaw in a single calendar day. Why was it so in her brain to romanticize the day that was always filled with disappointment and hurt?

The memory of their first meeting suddenly came back to Sherlock. She had been wearing casual clothes when they met. His mind locked onto the loafers, slippers. It reminded him of how he sometimes thought how unimportant appearances were. Yet he remembered her shoes instead of her name. Then he could hear her say it in his head, even if he couldn't visualize it. "Sorry," he said, his face mirroring his thought of humiliation and shame of being so indifferent to her life. He leaned over the railing. "It's Kelly of course."

Kelly stopped with her hand on the doorknob to her stairs. "Now that you've recalled my name; give me a reason for saying yes to you," she said firmly as she looked back at him with her eyes narrowed and her lips drawn into a frown. Her eyes were glistening with a foreign emotion that caused Sherlock to look away very quickly.

Sherlock walked down the steps again and then toward her. "Because we both think this day is ridiculous," he started. The similarity he had drawn between them was clearer. If he didn't want to stay in on the day neither should she. "I can also confidently say that staying inside won't make it any more interesting."

Kelly's eyes narrowed. She couldn't disagree about her views of the day. "Alright," she answered still frowning and then put up a finger and pointed at him. The echo of the look in her eyes was still there. "But you're paying." This was most certainly going to be purely platonic and she had reasons to insure that it stayed that way. Kelly knew she wasn't interested in anyone who couldn't recall her name and for that she'd make him pay, literally.

"Five o-clock to beat the rush," Sherlock affirmed seeming unfazed by her angered demeanor. "I'll pick the place." His gaze kept flashing over her eyes like a camera that refused to focus. He didn't want to see what was behind them.

"Agreed," she responded with her face still looking soured by the fact he didn't remember her name. Yet a ghost of a smile crept up at the corners of her lips. Then she opened the door and closed it behind her.

"It's settled then," Sherlock said to the door and then walked back upstairs. The look in Kelly's eyes was quite forgotten. He noticed the silence after the conversation and decided to check and see if Mrs. Hudson had been eavesdropping. He opened her door. When he found that she wasn't near the door he knocked on it and called out to her.

"I'm alright, Sherlock," she replied. "I'm just taking a breather in the kitchen."

He walked into the apartment and went to the kitchen where Mrs. Hudson was taking deep breaths. Sherlock looked at her with a question on his mind. "What exactly is a man expected to do for a date on Valentine's Day?" he asked innocently.

The howling started all over. "Between…. The two of you… I just may end up….. dying of laughter!" Mrs. Hudson stated as often as she could manage to breathe. She had almost collapsed from the lack of oxygen. "You just do whatever you want Sherlock," she managed after a moment. Then her face lit up as to why he was asking. "Have you got a date then?" she asked. "That's wonderful. Is it Kelly? Where are you taking her?"

Sherlock was repulsed by her line of questioning. "That's none of your concern," he stated with a crooked frown.

"Well, Kelly is my friend," Mrs. Hudson replied with a look of serious pallor. "I want to make sure you're going to give her a good time."

Kelly had been a companion to Mrs. Hudson during the time he was away. He supposed he owed Mrs. Hudson that much. "I'll make sure the conversation is pleasant," Sherlock replied with a slight smile.

"You'd better," Mrs. Hudson scolded. "She's been cooped up too long…says the most beautiful things when she doesn't think people are listening too closely."

He took one of her hands in his. "Don't worry about us," Sherlock murmured comfortingly. "We'll be fine." He smiled again and kissed her on the cheek.

"Oh go on and have fun," Mrs. Hudson said with a shooing motion. "You know I'm not staying around here. You shouldn't either. Lord knows how long it's been since this place was completely empty for an evening."

"I do believe it's been two years Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock smiled and then left Mrs. Hudson to go upstairs and look for a place to go. What better way to get to know the workings of London again than looking for some where quiet on Valentine's Day?


End file.
